The Creed
by DrakeTheTraveller
Summary: In 2150, the order of Assassins has been hounded to near extinction. But after discovering that the Templar hold a piece of Eden that could help tip the scales. They send one of their best to retrieve it, yet not all is as it seems. Something goes wrong and the Eden piece is not what they had thought it was, the young Assassin is not prepared for where his path will take him.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: A friend of mine requested this story and I have decided to do it for him. I hope that this will be an interesting crossover and that you all will enjoy it.**

The Creed

Prologue: Truth Is Relative

A lone figure swathed in black, stood atop a high-rise, hood peering down at the building adjacent, deep in the heart of New York City. Their target lay within its confines, a piece of Eden, one of great power, if Intel was to be believed. If they managed to seize this critical artifact, it would be a blow to the Templar mandate and would result in the break the Assassins needed. It was the year 2150, and for the past hundred and thirty years, the order has been in full retreat.

The Templar had access to their animus machines and was able to quickly train their agents with all the skills of Templar warriors throughout history. Already outnumbered, soon they were almost hopelessly so against this seeming tide. The enemy was ruthless and seemed to be all knowing, digging up Assassin hideouts almost monthly.

There were few Assassins left to fight, and most of them were no older than twenty, fresh faces where the older more experienced members had been killed off long ago. With the rise of Abstergo Industries, came the rise of the Templar. Backed by their massive corporation, they had a hand in all global politics and an ear of every world leader. The Assassins on the other hand, had little to no influence in the world and were restricted to only a few barely functioning guilds.

But the fight was far from over, they fought back with the ferocity of a dying beast, launching hundreds of raids and disrupting Templar objectives throughout the world. Yet at most there were a few thousand Assassins at any point in time. They were too few to properly fight back, but they did what they could. In fact this mission was supposed to be the turning point in their efforts. If they snatched that piece of Eden, they would have an advantage over their sworn enemies. But first, they would have to take it from them.

The man atop the building sighed tiredly and pulled the ebony hood from over his shoulders to cover his head. Moments later, a thin but durable black silver steel mask encased his features from view. From inside, a heads up display lit up highlighting the structure he was planning to infiltrate. He looked to his wrist where a screen displayed the current time.

**12:58**

Two minutes left….

The man gazed down at his suit and appraised with a studious eye. The thin armor plates that covered his torso, arms, and legs were comfortably fitted to his body, allowing him unrestricted movement while engaging in acrobatics. The hybrid alloys could absorb most standard munitions and was impervious to melee weapons.

He had the customary hidden blades attached to his arms, which could be flipped into a sort of pair of large dueling daggers, with a stripped down rifle sectioned off across his body for quick assemblage. A short cylinder was attached to his waist and could shift into a four foot glaive if he needed it. The last pieces of his small arsenal were a pair of energy pistols that could either be set to stun or kill, and countless throwing knives hidden in seamless compartments all along his armor.

His cloak and hood were also comprised of a steel and cloth nano fibers that were resistant to small arms fire, flames, bladed weapons, and a few other nasty things.

The Assassins may be endangered but they were far from unprepared. As the Templar's technological advantage increased, they had risen to meet them head on. Even their enemy did not have access to equipment like this and that was one of the many reasons they had not won yet. The prototype energy based weapons and armor hybridization gave the Assassins a much needed edge over their nemesis.

His Chrono device beeped….**1:00**

Satisfied that his equipment would see him through his trials, the man walked back from the age and did a flying leap, far from the other building. Yet as it seemed he would fall to his death, he flapped his cloak and it pulled him up, hanging off the air draft. The man glided across the open expanse and hit the building softly, without a sound. He grabbed the smooth windowed surface of the high-rise and his gloves sprouted claw like blades that anchored into the concrete and allowed him to scale the surface with relative ease.

Ten silent minutes of climbing and he reached the top of the spire like construction. He climbed up on top of the roof and walked towards the access doors as he brought up the layout on the rectangular flimsy electronic device attached to his wrist. It showed a layered representation of the Abstergo building he was planning on infiltrating. A white line led from his location to somewhere four stories down. No doubt the place would be full of Templar guards and advanced security systems. But that should prove no problem for the 25 year old master assassin. He had tackled dangers like this before.

He waived his right plated glove over the lock and the lock clicked, disarming the security system linked to the door. His device had several functions, some he coded or upgraded personally.

The door opened quickly and he slipped inside, closing after him with a soft thunk. The Assassin crouched down immediately and rolled into cover near the doorway by the stairs. No contacts showed on his tool so he assumed that no employee was patrolling the stairwell.

Still, he pulled one of the prototype pistols from his waist and readied it for use, best not to take chances. His masked face peered over the side of the railing and spied no one in the immediate area. Although, there were security cameras placed in ones on every floor.

He spied the one pointed at the doorway and thanked his armor for its passive stealth systems that gave a small delay to being detected. As long as he was fast enough, the cameras could not be able to pick him up. Speed was his ally in this instance.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his nerves and primed his lean, hard as steel muscles. He was going to perform a vault down four stories. Silent as a whisper, he grabbed the railing tightly with his gloves and swung over the side to glide downwards. He softly made his approach and just kissed the floor making an unnoticeable sound. Quickly he waived his right glove at the camera and the small red light next to the lens died.

Using his window of opportunity he slid into the locked door, it opening without much difficulty. Inside the room he could see seven individuals on his gadget. The room looked like a server core or something much like one. Three of the guards were near his hidden position behind in an alcove. The other four were spread out among the electronic pillars of hard data. The ones that he could see where in thick full white armor, and had the Templar cross brazenly marking their right pectoral plates. These were the best soldiers of Templar security, the so-called knights of the modern age. Still, they posed a very serious threat; no doubt each had killed their fair share of Assassins.

He flexed his left wrist and the hidden blade shot forth from its confine. He pressed a button on the side of his glove and it came out all the way, smooth hilt fitting firmly into his hand. Each of the blades was about ten or so inches in length and made of the finest crafted steel. They were stained a dull black to prevent reflections from giving away his position, as was the case with his armor.

The assassin waited for an hour, not moving a muscle as he hard wired the guards paths into his brain. Once he was sure he would not make a mistake he burst from his concealed position to softly place his back on one of the data spires. He waited until one of the guards was far from his companions and stalked over to him. The armored man stopped next to a spire a few feet from the assassin's location and looked around with his white helm, gripping his highly customized rifle securely in his grip.

Quiet as death, the assassin crawled to his target, weaving past the nearest computing tower. And just as the guard looked to the left he shot out and buried the blade into his throat from behind, wedging the dagger in-between the chinks of the armor. The thin blade easily pierced the mesh-like gorget and spilled little to no blood as it sliced through his victim's airways.

The guard gurgled inaudibly and vainly tried to clutch at his neck as he slid to the floor lifelessly. The assassin guided the dying man to the cold ground and whispered a quick prayer in Latin. Once his dead enemy had been tended to he rose to a half crouch and snuck to his next victim. In short order he neutralized the entire rooms guard force and stood up after watching the last guard drop from a piercing dagger to the heart, the blade sliding out of his victim as he fell.

The assassin wiped off the small amount of crimson liquid he had stained his blade with using the trim of his cloak. Looking around one last time he opened the door to the server room and slipped out into a large hallway.

The white walled hallway had the Abstergo logo on both sides and a single guard patrolled it. It was just regular fellow, am average Joe in a white and blue uniform, armed only with a flashlight and a radio. He was semi-portly and honestly was not that much of a threat.

The assassin stood up from his hiding place and walked over to the slightly piggish guard. The poor fellow flinched at seeing the assassin appear suddenly from out of the blue and stuttered with as much courage as he could. "W-who a-are y-y-you?"

The assassin shrugged and responded in a soft and pleasant voice. "_Salve amicus_." Then he shot the startled man in the chest with his pistol, the low energy charge knocked the portly fellow out post haste. He hit the floor hard and the assassin gently lifted him in his surprisingly strong hands and leaned him against the wall carefully. '_Somnus amici mei_."

He left the unconscious guard and followed the path to his objective. If the schematics were right, he should shorty be coming up on the piece of Eden, and once he retrieved it, he would make good on his escape.

After bypassing a few more guards and travelling through many rooms, he stopped at a nondescript room guarded only by a small glowing keypad. Alarm bells began to signal off in his head and he stared at the door suspiciously. His device said that what he desired was on the opposite side, but this was all too easy. His assassin senses were going haywire and he always trusted them. That could only mean one thing….

This was a trap.

This left the assassin with a hard decision to make. He could either trigger it. And hope that he could make it out with the artifact if it was even in there….or he could walk away. Neither were the best of plans, but there was no way he could walk away now. Too many had died to secure this information and it would be dishonorable to not take the same risk.

The assassin sighed and walked into the light to stand in front of the door. He raised his armored boot and smashed through the obstruction with its enhanced strength. The steel door flew off its hinges to clatter against the tiled floor and he examined the interior. This was no longer about stealth; the enemy already knew that he was coming so wasting time being quiet was pointless. Sheathing all his weapons, the assassin grabbed the small cylinder on his waist and activated the rune on the center.

It extended into a silver poled glaive, the angular blade atop unfolding to its deadly point. The pole of the weapon was made up of strong industrial strength steel and the foot long blade was sharp enough to cleave through steel and flesh with equal efficiency. Atop the glaive was a long barrel that ran along the back of the blade, it could fire energy projectiles, much in the same fashion of his pistols.

Every assassin created their own personal armament, and he had spent a long time doting on his. He was proud of the weapon and while archaic, it had yet to fail him. Gripping the shaft firmly in his gloved palms, he strode into the dark room.

It was a small place, only a couple dozen feet down and wide. At the center was a pedestal display which held the piece of Eden. To be honest the assassin was surprised to see it actually there and not a fake as he had anticipated.

But it was oddly shaped, all the ones he had seen before were spherical in form, but he had heard of Eden staves. This particular one appeared to be a crane hooked staff, a goldish brown color. It was around the same size as his glaive and larger than he had expected. It glowed softly with light and looked resplendent in its wonder, like an ancient pharaoh's staff. He suspected this might have had influence in the ancient Egyptian kingdoms of years past.

Stepping lightly into the room, he walked over to the relic, wary of any traps. Yet again he was mystified when he made it to the artifact in one piece. With a frown he grabbed the glowing thing and placed it on his back where it fit snuggly in a holster like contraption.

He searched around the room with his eyes and found nothing off; shaking his head in disbelief the assassin turned and left the room. As he walked back the way he came he wondered why he was still alive, or more importantly why he had met no resistance so far.

It made his blood boil with unease and he set himself on escaping. He had to reach the roof, from there; he should get picked up by a hover chopper and make his way back to the hidden guild base in Rome. From there they could learn more about this artifact and hopefully unveil this piece's power.

On the roof, the assassin stepped out to await his pickup. Yet as the minutes dragged on, he began to worry. He sent a quick encrypted text to his junior assassin, a kid he had been training for a few years.

**Where are you? I have the artifact.**

The device on his arm did not beep for a full minute, and when it did, he felt the blood in his veins thin into ice-water as he stared hard at the ominous text.

**Code black….you have been compromised. The Templar were waiting for me. Lost the chopper, had to pull back. RUN!**

The assassin growled and turned to see if he could get off the roof and perhaps he could somehow backtrack in the tower and to get to street level. But even as he turned, several of those armored guards walked onto the roof. As they lowered their rifles at him, he watched as another figure entered their little gathering. He, sensing defeat, compacted his glaive and placed it back on his waist, ready to bolt if he could only find a way to escape.

The old white man was in an old fashioned business suit and even had a briefcase. He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before staring at the assassin with an almost uninterested expression. "You assassins will always baffle me. No matter how hard we try to crush you, you simply won't do the honorable thing and die. You should know by now, we have eyes and ears everywhere, even in your precious…_order_." He grunted that name out sourly, as if it had sullied his mouth. "You are nothing but a pawn in a much larger game my dear fellow. Even an assassin such as you with an inferior intellect must have known this was a trap, and yet still you fell right into it. I suppose this is why you are all dying out, taking unnecessary risks."

He tutted in disappointment and frowned at the assassin. "You see, now we have you trapped on the roof, and no doubt you have just been informed that your accomplice is unable to save you. Now see reason sir, you can try to run…where as my loyal soldiers here will fill you full of holes in a most unpleasant, unseemly, and ignoble death. Or you can surrender and return the artifact to me. Whereas I will pry out any information you may have…and probably kill you anyways."

The old man chuckled wryly as the assassin stared back at him with his expressionless black mask. "I thought that might be your answer, you assassins all seem to face your demise so stoically." The old man clapped deprecatingly. "I applaud your loyalty to your cause, as misguided and faulty as it is."

The old Templar turned and began to walk back into the building without a backwards glance. "Kill him, and bring back the relic, perhaps the next assassin to try will be more pliable."

The brace of rifles all clattered their death knell and the assassin swiftly pivoted on his heels and turned to run to the edge. A repetitive thunderous booming cacophony of gunfire chased after him and he felt the impacts of a dozen heavy caliber rounds against his back plate and lower extremities. A few of them penetrated his armor and he felt the searing hot bullets tear into his guts and through his left leg and right thigh.

His sprint faltered at the cusp of the roof's edge and he twisted as he fell over the side, his last act of defiance denying his enemy the piece of Eden. As he fell chased by gunfire, he felt blood hurtling out of his body as his heavier weight took him past the fluids leaking from his soon to be corpse.

While his body plummeted from the extreme height, he pondered on his life and had suddenly found himself whishing that he was far away from this pain filled world that he lived in, that he was somewhere far, far from here where he didn't have to worry about Templars or their maniacal plots of world domination, where he did not have to watch almost daily as his fellows died to keep the order clinging on to the world with every sacrifice made.

The sound of the wind throttling past his ears was slowly overcome by a vibrant and deep humming issuing from his back. Not really caring at this point he casually looked over his shoulder past his cloak to see the Eden relic glowing a glittering rosy white that quickly encompassed his entire body.

Later on witnesses from the street claimed that a man had fallen off a building and turned into golden starlight, before fading into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

The Creed

Chapter 1: Relativity

Sly sighed as he walked the streets of Paris. His relationship with Carmelita had crashed and burned terribly. He had tried; he really did, but the kind of live she lived just wasn't for him. He was a thief by trade and heritage, and could not help it when the urge overcame him. So now he found himself, alone again. But it didn't bother him too much, he liked Carmelita, but she wasn't the girl for him. He needed a girl that understood, or at least accepted his little tics. But she was an Interpol agent, the very antithesis of what he was.

She caught thieves and criminals, and he was a well-known thief and criminal.

Everything had come to a head the day before; she had discovered his plans to heist the brand new museum that was just going to be opened. A crook ran the place and so he felt that the fellow should share his wealth. Needless to say, he had been chased out of their apartment, dodging the blasts of her electric handgun.

And now here he was, strolling down the streets of Paris and thinking about his life. Things had been quiet ever since their last little caper quite a bit ago before he tried to change, and now he wondered what to do. But then the obvious answer came to him as he smirked, he would just go back to doing what he did best.

Thievery…

But for that he would need to get his old team back together. Sly rubbed his furred chin, deep In thought. But, where would he find them?

Bentley, was probably back at his new lab with Penelope far away from Paris, and Murray….Murray was probably destroying things with his van. The hippo had developed a taste for danger and excitement, and that usually was hand-in-hand.

Oh well, after he took a gander at that villain's museum and liberated a few priceless antiquities, he would find them all. The roguish raccoon smiled and pulled his signature tool and family heirloom, his cane, from its spot on his back. With it in pawed grip he did a sprinting leap and caught the hooked top on a telephone wire and shot himself into the air to land acrobatically onto a nearby roof. A few more leaps and bounds and he reached the highest building in the area. Using his binocucom, he zoomed in in the white and golden structure that had so caught his thrifty eyes.

Sly gave it a few casing glances and thought that it would be a relatively easy caper. But than a bright golden light flashed in one of the many windows on the third floor of the large building…that didn't look normal.

The raccoon grinned mischievously, but then again, nothing ever was.

Still grinning, Sly parkoured his way through the old fashioned houses and shops of downtown Paris as he headed over to the institution of soon to be stolen art. And while he was there, he would do a little investigating on that odd light. After all, what kind of Cooper would he be if he didn't?

Sighing in frustration, a vibrantly orange and tawny chested vulpine dropped on the couch in her small mid-town apartment, in her night clothes. Carmelita Fox glared darkly at her bleached plaster walls and clenched and unclenched her clawed paws. "Goddamn it Sly!" She growled quietly and sniffled quietly, her feelings still hurt.

He just couldn't put his past to rest could he?

She had thought that she could change him, or that he would at least stop his larceny for her. But then she had discovered his poorly hidden plans. "I mean really, under the bed?" She muttered unhappily to herself. That raccoon was going to be the death of her.

Exhaling heavily, she leaned back on her couch and grunted. She was done with Sly, she couldn't take it anymore. He could be a great guy, and she used to think, the greatest. But that irresistible connection she thought she had must have just been fruitless infatuation. He was just too different, more than she could handle or tolerate. Perhaps if she had not been an Interpol agent, she might have let it go. But it was her duty to apprehend criminals, and he was one of the worst, or best she supposed.

Muttering, she moved to a prone position on her sofa and hugged the pillow. Now here she was, alone again with nothing but her job to sustain her. "Looks like it's back to long nights at the precinct for me." She grumbled gloomily. There was no point coming back to an empty apartment.

She might have wallowed in depression for the entire night if not for the radio on her small table buzzing with static. Groaning, Carmelita forced herself off the couch and meandered over to the four legged wooden board.

"Inspector Fox here." She murmured tiredly over the device, yawning widely and showing off her impressive arsenal of pearly white teeth.

"Inspector, this is Rosy." A voice replied. Rosy was a young female skunk that worked at the precinct, manning the radio and informing on-duty officers of pending crimes or investigations. Carmelita had become friends with her over the years and had been helping the young spunky skunk to try and achieve the status and rank of Inspector.

"Rosy, I'm off duty, remember." Carmelita muttered. She had taken a hiatus after Sly had bailed on her, wanting to use the time to sulk.

"Yeah I knew that, but I thought you might be interested to hear that odd lights have just been reported at that new museum that just opened." Rosy replied with a knowing tone.

That jolted Carmelita out of her stupor.

"What, how long ago was it!?" She demanded quickly as she braced the radio to her cheek with her shoulder and scampered over to her closet.

"The call just came in less than a minute ago; I heard it and thought to give you a heads up." The female voice on the line explained.

Clothes flew out of the small closet as the vixen undressed out of her nighties and into her usual getup. "Who is on task for the investigation?" She asked as she slipped into her blue top.

"No one yet, the news is still circulating around the station."

"Well I want it, give it to me." Carmelita growled with determination.

"But I thought you were on hiatus." Rosy replied with what could only be a smile in her voice.

"Not anymore." Carmelita grunted as she holstered her shock pistol. "If its Sly, I have a few words to hit him with."

"I thought that might be your answer. I'll let the chief know, do you want backup?"

"Just a few cars and officers to create a perimeter, I'll go inside and investigate." Carmelita answered as she quickly exited her apartment and jogged down the hallway to her car outside.

"Got it, I will see to it, let me know how it goes." Rosy closed the connection as Carmelita turned the keys and ignited her cars engine. With a roar, it rocketed down the street and towards the museum.

As she drove she thought about all the ways she would take care of Sly, perhaps a few shock blasts or a well-placed kick to his sensitive area. Whatever she used, the dastardly raccoon would end up behind bars.

The thoughts or revenge made the fifteen minute car ride much faster and she soon found herself on the outside of the museum, parking her vehicle near the steps. Four cars were already there with uniformed officers walking around.

The vixen stepped out of her car and strode to the officer in charge, a German Shepard. "Officer Hendriks, what's the situation?"

The canine scratched behind his ear and filled her. "We arrived about ten minutes ago, and so far we haven't seen any movement inside, or around the building in question."

She nodded and pulled out her pistol. "Alright, I'll take it from here, cordon off the museum and stay in radio contact. I will go inside and look around."

The dog nodded back and walked off, barking into his radio. Carmelita walked up the long marble steps and reached the wood and glass doors. She looked back before heading in and saw more police cars pulling up to the scene.

With a deep breath she pushed the large doors and walked inside.

The interior of the museum was filled with glass case chock full of pewter and ceramic relics. Other larger cases had many other things, ancient suits of armor, robes, weapons, and things of that ilk.

But she wasn't here for that, she was here to find out if the disturbance had been Sly. She scoffed in disbelief as she walked up a staircase to the second floor. "Couldn't even wait a week could he?" It had been less forty-eight hours and he was already back, in full swing it would seem. Why would he come here anyways? She already alerted her superiors of his plan, so why would he try and do it anyways? It just didn't make any sense.

Was it really Sly, or was something else going down here? There was only one way to find out.

She steadied her hold on her weapon and after checking the entire second floor, stepped up to the third and final one.

She carefully strode throughout the artifact packed corridors and had a question. Where were the museum guards? Shouldn't they be around too? The vixen had not seen any and supposed that there were none. It was a brand new building. Perhaps they had not been hired yet?

She shook her head and rid herself of the unimportant thoughts. She had to focus on her job. She had to find out what was going on.

Carmelita reached the last part of the third floor, a large rotunda that had a few of the more interesting artifacts, spherical orbs and strange constructs that seemed to glow with life. She had read about these a few weeks ago, found in a dig deep in the amazon. They were said to be remnants of a long forgotten and advanced race. She scoffed at that, how could something in the past be more advanced than them? It didn't make any sense.

Suddenly her long fuzzy ears twitched, she heard something in this room. Carmelita aimed her shock pistol and stepped deeper into the chamber. Her vulpine ears detected a sort of soft grating noise, as if steel was scraping against the marble floor. He heart began to race and adrenaline pumped through her system.

The vixen headed for the center of the room and her almost knee length boots stepped in a sticky puddle of liquid. Confused, she looked down and her eyes sifted through the darkness. Moments later her black nose twitched as an unpleasant metallic odor packed her nostrils.

Blood…

Now on high alert, she silently grabbed her radio off her chest and whispered into it, calling for backup. At the sound of her voice, something moved in the back of the circular room, near the left windows, the same odd sound.

Cautiously, the vixen turned to face the direction and slowly advanced. She also took note of the long pathway of red that led in that direction. It looked like somebody was hurt, and so she called out softly and kindly. "Hello, if you are hurt, I can help you, just come out."

She stopped and waited for an answer….and only received silence. Gathering her courage, Carmelita pattered closer to the end of the trail of blood. It began to get fresher and wider as it veered off to the left, behind a rather large display of staff-like objects.

Her vulpine eyes picked out a pair of legs sticking out from behind the large glass cabinet. She saw that a pool of blood was still manifesting around the figure and rushed over in haste, worried that whoever they were, they might be dead or dying.

When her amber eyes saw the figure propped against the display she gasped in shock.

It was a man, judging by their masculine physique, and they were completely covered in black and silver lined bodysuit that looked a lot like some high tech armor. Their features were concealed behind a hood and a sort of silvery black mask. They were wrapped up in a cloak and she could see blood oozing out from underneath him. But what was the strangest thing was that he was holding something in his mailed gloves that looked almost identical to Sly's cane, yet she was positive that the bleeding man was not the raccoon.

She lowered to a half-kneel besides the figure and studied them in more depth as she reached for her radio. "I need an ambulance at the museum immediately, possible attempted homicide." She called over her device as she gently turned the wounded man on his back and dropped her gun to the side, she knew she would not need it.

Her frown deepened when she spotted the holes in his lower back and the one on each leg. Blood still pervaded from the openings. She tried to rip the figures cloak to staunch the wounds, but could not with all her strength. So instead she ripped up her brown leather jacket and used it to wrap it up as best she could.

After she tied a rather tight and painful clamp on the man's leg he hissed out in pain. "_Deodamnatus_…" He groaned and shifted before going silent, probably having faded back to unconsciousness.

She could not quite catch what it was he said as it was not anything she had ever heard before. That made her even more curious and so she looked him over more and was shocked to see that he had no tail to speak of. That in itself was strange and she wondered who this person was and why they were here. It was possible that he was a thief, but that did not explain the gunshots. Perhaps his accomplice or accomplices had a fight. But then again she had not seen any shell casings or smelt the acrid and bitter aroma of cordite and gunsmoke. That begged the question.

How did he get shot, and end up here?

She turned as she heard footsteps and lights and saw several officers walk in with flashlights on. She stood up and signaled them to head over to where she was. The officers all arrived and took in the sight of the vixen covered in blood and standing next to the man.

"Jesus, what in the hell happened here?" A male kangaroo exclaimed in shock.

"Looks like a heist gone wrong to me." Hendricks hypothesis as he looked at the scene.

"That's what I had thought, but then again, how come no shots were heard and I don't see any casings or smell the smoke. On top of that where are the ones who carried this out? These wounds look extremely recent." Carmelita cut in before yelling. "But that's not important right now, where the hell is the ambulance!? This man is dying!"

"They are on the way." A large black bear replied.

"Not good enough, here, help me carry him." Carmelita ordered. Grabbing the man's armored torso by the armpits and trying to haul him up. The other officers joined in and they carried the man down to the stairs, unaware of the eyes that followed them from the ceiling of the chamber.

They carried the man to the front where she could just here the ambulance's siren screeching as it approached. It skidded to a stop outside the museum just as the group walked out with the wounded man. The back of the vehicle was thrown open and two animals in paramedic outfits jumped out with a stretcher.

Carmelita watched as they transferred the wounded man to the pallet and carried him back to the car, slightly confused. In the fellow's grip still lay the cane and he was completely hidden under his suit.

She walked over to the two medics as a team of officers walked back into the building, going to sweep it for evidence. As she approached, one of the paramedics, a female tiger, was trying to get the mask off so she could get to the man inside. But mo matter how hard she tugged it wouldn't come off. The other paramedic meanwhile, a male boar, was trying to get the armor off so he could better access the wounds. But he had about as much success as his cohort. Carmelita heard their dilemma. "I can't get the damn mask off!" The female tiger exclaimed in anger and frustration as she still pried at it with her paws.

The boar grunted and tried to remove the suit. It was exasperating, to help, they needed to get the armor off, but it wasn't budging. At this rate he would die surrounded by the means to help him. Carmelita climbed into the back of the vehicle and closed the doors, looking closely at the man before placing a paw on his arm as the ambulance sped off to the hospital.

Like a whip. The left plated hand clamped down on her paw and he shot up from the stretcher and fired off a strange tirade that they could not understand. The mask shifted around as the man stared at the people around him. Jostling as the van weaved through the parisan streets.

At this rate, he would bleed out, especially if he kept moving like that. "Please, take off your mask, we have to help you." Carmelita pleaded.

He shook his hooded head as if confused and was silent. Carmelita softly squeezed the hand that held hers tightly. "Please."

The masked man looked down at the contact and back up before letting go of the cane in his right and reaching into the hood. A moment later, the hood pulled back and the mask clattered as it disappeared into the mesh-like wrapping around the man's throat.

The trio gasped as a strange face was revealed. They had never seen its like before.

He had no fur on his head except short brown hair atop his pate and a small gathering around the lower part of his face, like a beard that older males developed if they did not take care of their fur. His eyes were an odd shade of dark green that seemed almost blue and had a small nose that rested above a flat mouth with square-like teeth on the inside. Two odd fleshy ears stuck out from the sides of his head and the skin of his face was slightly tanned.

But his eyes looked glazed and distant, probably due to the loss of blood. He swayed drunkenly and collapsed back onto the stretcher, but not before letting go of Carmelita's paw to clench the cane with both of his gloved hands.

"What is he?" The boar exclaimed in wonder as he still worked, training preventing him from becoming too distracted. The paramedic felt around the collar of the suit and finally managed to find out how to take it off, pulling it a seal and separating the torso armor into two sections, the front and the back. The armor was pulled off to reveal a thin but tough under layer, that was also removed.

The man's naked chest was rising and falling erratically as he gasped, taking unreliable breaths. The tiger placed a hand pumped oxygen rig on his face and began to feed air into his lungs. Carmelita watched as the two worked on the strange man, his chest reminded her of martial artists she had seen in movies. Lean but strong muscles without a lick of fat on them, they were clearly defined on his body more so than anyone she had seen. She attributed it to the fact he had no fur to cover it up.

As she watched the medics saved his life, she began to develop a deep curiosity. What was going on here? Who was the stranger and why did he have a cane?

Sly watched as the ambulance with Carmelita and the stranger blazed away. His interest had been piqued. Why did that fellow have a cane? It looked much like his, too much to dismiss as mere chance. No, something was going on here, and he was itching to find out.

But for now he would let the heat die down. Perhaps he would find out more after he gathered his gang. He was certain that Bentley could solve this mystery, that little turtle was a genius. And if anything went wrong, Murray could bust them out of it.

With a plan of attack set up, the raccoon bounded away on the rooftops, looking to find a way to get to America, where he could find Bentley. With a few of the artifacts he snatched he could pay for a plane ride their and back.

Sly chuckled as he leaped over a water tower and ran towards the airport. As if he would actually pay for a plane.


	3. Chapter 3

The Creed

Chapter 2: What Is Reality?

The Assassin regained awareness and groaned in pain. It felt as if he was in some soft padded bed. He forced his eyes open and closed them again swiftly as he was bombarded by harsh white light. That made no sense; his mask should have protected him, dimming to compensate. He attempted to move his arms and became worried when they would not move. He strained himself against whatever it was holding him down, but it did not budge.

After several more tries to escape his bonds, he sighed in defeat and lowered his raised body to the bed he was confined to, pained and weakened after the efforts. He opened his eyes and glared past the blinding light to see that he was in some sort of stark white room full of what could only be medical tools, if a little outdated. It would seem that he was in a hospital. But how did he get here? And where was his suit? He thought as he looked down to see that he was in some sort of thin pale gown and that his arms and legs had been restrained to the bed he laid on with leather straps. The Assassin racked his brain as he tried to recall the incidents previously that must have led him unknowingly to this situation he was faced with.

He had woken up with a terrible pain in his lower body and looked to be in some strange room full of Eden artifacts. How he got there he was uncertain, but he suspected that the odd staff he stole from the Templar was responsible for that. His guts felt like molten led and his legs failed him. The bullets must have done some serious damage to his innards and he had thought he had met the end of his road.

He had tried to drag his body to a corner so that he could try and plan what to do next, or to at least die with some modicum of comfort. He had medical supplies in his armor, but they were insufficient for injuries of the severity that he faced. He remembered that he had been near a large display when a female voice echoed in the chamber. He had then tried to hide behind the display fearing that she may have been working for the Templar, but the noise he made must have garnered her attention as she neared his location.

From there he recalled little as he was assaulted by pain and blackouts, although he did distinctly remember his wounds being tended, albeit in a rough manner. After that many hands had picked up his delirious body and taken him down around three flights of stairs. He could hardly see at that point and could only make out vague shapes, as everything else looked odd and the people fuzzy.

One thing ran through his mind, around and around like train with a circular track. The female that had first found him had grabbed his hand, and her hand had felt weird, like it was wrapped in a soft layer of velvety carpeting and her palms felt off, not only that but her nails had been long and sharp, like claws. Her voice also stuck with him, it soothed his pains and had a sort of Latino accent to it. Yet she spoke English, as he remembered her pleading him to take off his mask.

That meant that he was probably still in America, and that the Templar had not found him, as they would not have been nearly as kind. He supposed that he had been taken to the nearest hospital and tethered up because he was certainly no civilian, especially with his gear.

Where did they put his gear? And where was the Eden staff? If he was to breakout of this hospital and get underground before the Templar could find him, he would need it and its resources, and there was no way in hell he would leave without the artifact. He strained at the ties a few more times, getting a feel for his imprisonment, testing its strength.

A few tugs and he concluded that they were weak and he could break out if he worked at them in the right way. Now all he needed was to find out where his stuff was and he could escape. It would be difficult with his injuries, but he had to try.

For now he would bide his time and gather his strength. The Assassin regulated his breathing and entered a coma-like state, still able to hear things on the outside, but for all intents and purposes, looked as if he was sleeping. He waited like that for until he heard the doors to his room open and someone step inside, he distinctly picked up the deep clipping noise of a pair of boots. And his nose was treated to fine feminine perfume. He decided to listen in on his female visitor and discover her intentions.

Carmelita strode into the small hospital room and eyes the figure restrained to the bed. The strange man was still asleep and the bed was somewhat mussed up, perhaps he moved in his sleep?

She moved to the side of his bed and maneuvered a chair to sit near him, placing her tail in her lap.

The doctors had discovered his blood type and managed to balance him, patch him up, and run a few tests at the same time. From what they could tell, he was healthy, surprisingly so if you did not count his recent wounds. But they could not figure what he was, and were surprised that he had a blood type that they recognized.

From a closer distance she examined the odd man. He looked like no animal she had ever seen in her life. Most likely he was from some distant country she never heard of. But why was he here? His strange armored garb and lean but firm muscles ruled out that he was anything but some sort of PMC or well-equipped thief. After taking his equipment to the precinct, they had discovered two large handguns, a small cylindrical tube, a frightening amount of knives, two blades around the wrists of the suit, components for what could only be a rifle, and god knew what else. It was also possible that he was some sort of criminal, hired for what purpose remained to be seen.

Yet if he was any of these things, what was he doing at a museum, and how did he get those gunshot wounds? This was perhaps the greatest mystery of her times. It had been two days since they found him and already the news had the story plastered all over the headlines.

She hummed and stroked her muzzle, deep in thought as she looked at the man. "What and who, are you?" She muttered quietly. At the moment thoughts of Sly were far from her mind as she was occupied with this issue in front of her.

Carmelita was still curious as to what he was and so she brought a furry digit down and softly brushed across his face. The texture felt odd on her padded finger and it was not an unpleasant one. Rather it felt like smooth and slightly warm, it was actually kinda nice.

But as she was probing his face, she accidently pushed too hard and nicked his cheek with her sharp claw, drawing blood. "Shit." She muttered as she watched the small pearl of crimson liquid run down his cheek. The vixen looked around and could not find anything to clean it up. She had a brief internal dilemma before reluctantly deciding to clean his face with her tongue, lapping up the blood and stopping it from coming out.

His skin was oddly salty and tasted strange when combined with his blood. When she had finished, she walked over to the sink and washed her mouth out repeatedly, removing the metallic tang from her mouth. When she was satisfied she wiped her mouth dry with a paw and went to sit back on her chair.

The Assassin was dumbfounded, had the women just licked his face? She had placed some sort of sharp fuzzy implement on him and had cut his cheek. After hearing a quick swear and a minute or so of silence, he felt a tongue brush against his cheek. But it did not feel like a human tongue, more like a dogs. It was long and broad and felt weird.

But the bigger question was why the hell did she do that?

At this point the assassin decided that he should do something, before anything else weird happened. So faking that he was just waking up, he shook his head slowly and opened his eyes.

And he looked right at an animal.

Not just any animal, but one that was sitting on a chair like a person, shaped like a person, and was dressed like a person. It took all of his training and will power not to openly stare and drop his jaw in disbelief.

Instead, he stared awkwardly at the animal as it stared back at him with large amber eyes. Eventually it further surprised him when it spoke. "Hello." It greeted softly and gave a smile that he thought was supposed to be disarming but had the opposite effect with the sharp and intimidating teeth. And he was stunned again when he realized that it not only spoke English, but was in fact the owner of the female voice from before.

He studied it quietly and noticed that its body was feminine in form, marking it as a female. He must have been staring oddly because it-she, looked uncomfortable and repositioned on the chair, coughed anxiously, and spoke again. "Hello, do you speak English?" She tried again.

He pondered on whether he should admit that he could, and after a few moments decided that he would get farther that way. "Yes." He responded and nodded his head.

The animal girl, which he now identified as a fox by her coloring and long fluffy ears, exhaled in relief and continued. "Good, that makes this much easier. My name is Carmelita Fox, and I work for Interpol."

As she spoke he began to think. Where was he? What kind of place is this? And why was he talking to a humanized animal? It seemed that the staff had taken him farther than he predicted it had. There was little chance he was on the same planet. He would have heard about these animals.

"What's your name?" He heard the vixen ask him, dragging him out of his inner thoughts. He looked up to see that she was staring at him hopefully, with her soft amber eyes. They would have been rather nice he suspected, if she did not look like that.

At this point it mattered little if he lied, so he didn't. "My name is Avitus."

"Avitus….?" She lingered on the name.

"Just, Avitus." He grunted, he had given up his last name when he had reached the age to pledge.

"Okay then….Avitus." She relented, not willing to push so far yet. "Tell me what you were doing at the museum."

The Assassin sighed and leaned back on the bed. "I don't know, I don't remember how I got there." It was partial truth, and half lies. He knew….sort of, how he got there.

She looked at him skeptically and switched the angle of her investigation. "What are you?"

"I am a human." He answered simply.

"A….human you say?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah we are descended from apes, and all that crap." He rolled his hands in their bonds.

"Apes…." She trailed off thoughtfully. Carmelita could somewhat see the similarities.

"I don't suppose I can just go huh?" He sighed, already knowing the answer.

"I am afraid not, you are under investigation. We found you at a potential crime scene and it seems like someone or someones, tried to kill you. Why is that?" She inquired, giving him a hard look.

"I can't say." He retorted. Not only would he not, but she would not understand.

"Why did you have some many weapons?"

"I can't say."

"Why did you have armor?"

"I can't say."

"What were you doing before this?"

"No comment."

The vixen huffed in annoyance and crossed her furred arms. "You have to tell me something, you're staying here until I get some answerers."

He shrugged and looked at her with an amused and confident smile. "Not really."

"What?" She asked in confusion.

He flexed suddenly and his bonds snapped, she stood up to grab him and he shoved her backwards. The vixen fell and rolled to get up. By that time he had already released his legs and was standing on the other side of the bed,

"Don't make this hard on yourself." She sighed. "You're weak, and I know I can beat you. Just get back in the bed."

He chuckled and cracked his neck. "Sorry lady, no can-do. I have to go."

"You're not going anywhere." She growled, getting into a fighting stance, he picked up on it in a flash.

"Huh, they have taekwondo here. Too bad I took that when I was twelve. I myself fancy Krav Maga." He readied himself and sidestepped around the bed to face her.

She waited for him to move. And when he stood there so long she got impatient and tried to scissor kick him. But he caught her booted foot and twisted it, sending her to the floor. He tried to walk past her but she shot back up to land a slash on his neck. He leaned backwards and let the paw sail past, grabbing her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her furred throat for a quick takedown.

At that she became desperate, lashing out with claws and snapping her teeth almost rabidly. Avitus reared back in shock at the violent shift and got smacked in the face by her arm, sending him reeling. She squirmed out of his grip and flipped to face him, a furious expression on her snout as she bared her fangs and snarling.

It made the Assassin feel a little bad. "Look, sorry about the throat grab, but I really need to go." He sighed as he semi-exited his stance. He never liked fighting women, even if they were furred ones. He decided that he could take a less violent route….for now.

She glared at him with blazing eyes before slowly lowering her bared claws. "I can't let you go. You are a part of the investigation." She panted, catching her breath from the brief skirmish.

"Well there is nothing to investigate. I wasn't trying to rob the place, I just woke up there." He muttered.

"I would like to believe you, but there's a process that must be done, even with your unique circumstances." She retorted repetitively. "Besides, you have a lot of questions to answer. Like what a human is, why you have all that stuff, and who you are."

"Some of those things I can't tell you." He said quietly, giving her a serious and pained look.

She heaved in exasperation and threw her paws up. "What the hell _can_ you tell me?"

"Tell you what." Avitus said, sitting on the bed and clutching his stomach painfully, after having irritated his wounds in their scuffle. "I'll tell you everything I can, and you let me have my stuff back."

She thought about it. "You would have to come back to the precinct with me and submit to my authority. And there is no real guarantee you would get your stuff back." She warned.

Avitus thought about it. He could always break out if he needed to, and his gear was probably there. He supposed he could let her have that much for now. "I…will take your deal" He stood up and walked over, holding his hand out.

She looked at him intently before grabbing it in her paw and shaking. He could feel the soft pads and it made his skin tingle peculiarly. He was not sure if he liked it. "Alright than, I assume you're ready to leave?'

"Been ready." He replied with a grin.

The hospital had clothes he could use, although the pants had a hole in the seat and the shoes were a tight fit. But he managed to find a grey shirt and brown pants that fight on his frame. He got many odd looks from the staff, but this world was full of animals and he was not exactly the strangest looking so the eyes did not linger very long. As he followed the Inspector he could not help but stare at all the animals as they walked around about their business, just like humans.

It was so _strange_….

He watched as a lemur was wheeled across the hall by a portly pig fellow. This world was far different then his own, and yet so similar. _Where had the damn staff taken me?_

"Where are we?" He asked his companion as they walked towards the door, he limped slightly due to his injured legs. His condition did not exactly advocate walking.

Just now he had taken note of her clothes and saw that she was wearing a blue top that left her fuzzy midriff and shoulders exposed. Her slender legs were covered in a tight pair of blue pants and her brown and tan boots ran to just below the knees.

"We are in Paris, France." She replied simply, stunning him.

"Paris, France." He muttered quietly in confusion. But he already knew off a Paris, and had been there in person on a few missions. And last he checked Paris did not look like this, and there definitely were no animal people. Also judging by her reaction to him, humans were not exactly common here either. Avitus was deeply confused.

Her furred head bobbed and her ears followed in a cute way and she turned to usher him down the hall. Avitus quickened his pace and followed her, still bemused. It seemed even as he got answerers, he needed many more.

They took an elevator and arrived at the ground floor, the smell of antiseptic was less intense down here and there were more people….animals.

Many of them stared as he walked across the lobby with Carmelita and headed out of the building. She continued to walk down the steps but he stopped and looked around. Indeed it was Paris, although not exactly as he recalled.

There was the Eiffel Tower and it all looked similar. But there were varying differences that were almost unnoticeable. Even in his world Paris remained relatively unchanged with the tide of technology, and here it looked alike. Although he noticed that this place was not on the same scale as theirs, more along the lines of the 80's or early 2000's if he could remember pictures from those times accurately.

"Hey, Avitus!" He looked down the steps to see the vixen gesturing him over hurriedly with a paw. She was standing by a car with the standard blue and white coloring of the French police. It was a little difficult getting down with his legs like they were, but he managed. At the bottom of the stairs he turned and walked over to Carmelita.

She opened the back door and he looked at her with an unamused grimace. "This is where the criminals go."

Carmelita sighed and closed the door, opening the passenger side one instead. "There, happy now?" She muttered, but she did give a smirk, however small and grim.

"Yes." He replied before easing into the car.

The vixen climbed into her seat and made sure they both were belted in.

"Thanks mom." He rolled his eyes, earning a smack in the arm and a broad playful smile.

"Shut up." She growled spiritedly and placed the key in the ignition. As he watched her he pondered on why he was acting like this. Usually he was withdrawn and was not one to joke. But something about her made him act differently.

He didn't like it.

Within moments the car started and slowly pulled away from the hospital. As she drove, he took in the sights, watching as families of these animal people walked about their daily lives. "Unreal." He muttered to himself.

"What?" The vixen asked, picking it up with her rather large ears, eyes still focused on the road.

He looked at her and tried to explain, but could not find the proper words. "Nothing, I'll tell you when I can actually find out how to describe it."

She shrugged and dropped it. But a few minutes later her curiosity won out. She wanted to know who this stranger was, everything she could find out she wanted to. "So…." Carmelita began, thinking up a question to ask. "Do you have a family, wife, kids, parents, siblings?"

At that his expression hardened. His family was long gone, killed off by the Templar in their desire to purge the order, and he had not had time to start a family, and chances of that were probably long gone. "My family's dead and I never got to do the rest." Avitus sighed gloomily and returned his attention to the outside window. As he did he looked at the palm of his left hand where an old scar lied. It took up most of his palm and looked whitened with age.

The vixen looked at him and frowned. That had not been her plan when she asked. "Sorry, about probing."

"It's fine." He replied with as much kindness as he could. "It's all in the past now." Avitus had a melancholy tone.

"No plans for the future then?" She asked, looking to him for an answer, studying his face with amber eyes.

"No, not anymore, I thought I had something to do, to fight for. But now after this….well that's in the past too." He tore his gaze from the window and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. "I suppose nothings left for me anymore. Pretty sure I can't return home and even if I did, there's nothing really to go back to."

"Why?" Carmelita asked curiously. She was interested to hear more of this, and perhaps could unearth some of the answers she wanted.

Avitus thought about telling her and basically said fuck it. Telling her wouldn't matter anymore. But he did decide to dumb it down some so as not to confuse her or have to go into too much detail. "Most humans lived in peace and the bliss of ignorance. But a few knew that something was wrong with our society. A group, called the Templars, sought to control all of humanity. But my group…fought to keep that from happening." He didn't tell her the name of their order, as it could be taken the wrong way out of context.

The vixen on the other hand was enthralled in the tale; between listening and driving she had almost forgotten about the storyteller himself.

"Ever since time immemorial we have waged this war. And in more recent years we have been losing. I was sent on a mission to hopefully gain an advantage we could use, something to even the odds, but it was a trap and I was wounded before finding myself here. Without that advantage I fear that we have lost the war. Even if I were to somehow get back, what would be the point? I have fought for most of my life, since I was seventeen. And in that time I have done many things, some would find them monstrous or immoral. My order has always waged war in the shadows. We work in the dark to serve the light." He said that with a small hint of distaste. As if it was an unpleasant reminder of something, off what he had sacrificed in his duty…and what he had lost. "But that's all in history now, none of it matters." He added, turning away to look at the window once more. He didn't want to seem weak if she saw his reddening eyes. Thoughts of the past were rather painful at times.

Carmelita stopped at a red light and looked at the human sitting across from her. She had never met someone like him before, not just in looks. He was far more complicated then he seemed. And from what she had just learned, may not be from around here, as if she had not suspected that already.

She had never heard of humans before, and the vixen was certain she would have if what he told her was true…and yet. The vixen had a gut feeling that he was telling her the truth. She studied his back as he had turned away from her, and placed a paw comfortingly on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. She could pick up on his emotional state, and he reeked of misery and despair. She was not stupid enough to believe that he had told her the entire story, but telling what he did, had a major impact on him.

She kept the paw there as she drove the rest of the way to the station. And after she parked the car in the underground garage she removed it and turned off the vehicle, storing the keys in her pocket.

Avitus unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car, closing the door behind him. She followed suit and was surprised when she saw him with a smile on his face. "Come on, let's go introduce me. I'm sure I'll be the life of the party." He chuckled softly and began to walk to the exit of the garage leading into the main building.

As she chased after him she frowned sadly. He may have been smiling and laughing, but she could still smell the rankness of hopelessness and despair.

He stopped at the door and waited for her; she walked ahead of him and opened it, letting him in.

Avitus stepped inside. He wanted to get his stuff back, but after that, what would he do?


	4. Chapter 4

The Creed

Chapter 3: Truth Is Deceptive

When Avitus agreed to go with that vixen Carmelita, this was not what he had in mind.

The Assassin sighed as he leaned back into the stiff-backed and extremely uncomfortable metal chair he had been handcuffed to. "Yep, great plan." He muttered self-deprecatingly. "I should have just busted my way out." As he quietly grumbled he looked around the room they had locked him up in.

It was pretty much like every other police interrogation cell he had ever seen, and he had been on both sides. It had the blank and soul-sucking walls, where he was sure one was a one-way window. A single reinforced-steel door led into the room, no doubt guarded by two to three officers, and a camera watching him at all times. There was a single grey metal table and a chair on the opposite side, facing him. He also spied a glass of cold refreshing water with exactly two glorious looking ice cubes; the cup even had condensation on it, trickling down the sides to form a water ring on the metallic table. Yep, the perfect picture of a thirst quencher laid out for him. He was pretty freaking thirsty as he had not had a drink in three days, and they had given him water.

If only he could grab the damn thing.

In their infinite wisdom, they had not thought to let his arms have enough slack to pick up the damn cup, so it sat there taunting his parched throat with its liquid splendor. "You goddamn bastard!" He growled at the villainous cup after failing once more to retrieve the aquatic deviant. "I will get you; bet your sweet refreshing watery ass!" You vowed as he locked gazes with the infernal water receptacle.

After glaring heatedly for a few minutes he exhaled heavily and looked at the ground, already bored with fighting an inanimate object. He had been sitting alone in the room for around four hours and was confident they must have forgotten about him. He could not understand why, no doubt he was the most interesting person they had locked up.

Avitus frowned; he just had to follow that vixen didn't he?

He could have easily broken out of the hospital and would not be facing this crisis at the moment. With a snarl he thought back to the instance that led up to his current confinement.

The Assassin and vixen had entered the precinct without incident, but soon he had been veritably swarmed by the staff on hand and most rudely shoved to the ground and handcuffed. That certainly did not help his injuries heal. Carmelita had been shocked and quickly informed them that he was under her supervision, and therefore did not need to be treated so harshly. But the chief, a very irritable badger, refuted that and had him locked up. He learned the fellows name as a knee had been pressed to his cheek roughly. Chief Inspector Barkley.

He decided that he didn't like Chief Inspector Barkley.

Avitus in fact, decided that he didn't like the station at all, perhaps his opinion was biased. In any case, here he was now, locked up in some police building, populated by a force of animals with guns and badges. Uhuh, he was doing just fine.

The Assassin looked to the cuffs that were holding him and gauged their quality. The cuffs were pretty standard, solid steel and chains; he had escaped manacles like this a few times in his troubled youth.

The trick was you had to do a little maneuvering; it was all in the wrist really. He twisted his arm and pulled back, almost slipping a hand out before he stopped himself. He would wait for now. Just like in the hospital, find out a little bit more about this new and familiar world.

With nothing to occupy him, thoughts of his past began to resurface. Needless to say that did not improve his already deplorable mood. Sighing, he flipped his palm and looked at the mark that would forever be reminder of that terrible day, four years ago. If only he had been faster, she would still be alive.

As he brooded, the door to the interrogation cell opened and a small fellow stumbled in. Avitus turned to observe the new arrival. It was a short purple otter, a strange coloring indeed. The otter was wearing a black and blue police uniform that covered his vaguely out of shape body, and Avitus spotted his hands, or rather paws, twitching nervously. That was odd, considering that the Assassin was the one chained up. Th Assassin took note of the gun at is waist and locked it down in his mind.

The nervous otter scurried to the opposite chair and sat down on it. He cleared his throat and fiddled with his uniform for a few while before finally looking at Avitus. He stared for a while, making the Assassin uncomfortable. Eventually he cleared his throat a few more times and tried to speak.

"H-hello." He squeaked before leaning his short muzzle up and clearing his throat for what must have been the hundredth time since he entered. He tried again, trying to make his voice more masculine. "Hello, my name is detective Winthrop. And I will be interrogating you today."

Avitus almost chuckled at that. It was a rather odd way to begin an interrogation. Usually you did not come right out and say it….that tended to spoil the mood.

The Assassin looked at the otter and nodded, flexing his hands and replying in an almost bored tone. "Sure thing bud, but you might want to hurry up. I have stuff to do and I'm on a tight schedule."

The otter leaned his head back in confusion, not expecting the man to act so casual. Shaking his head, Winthrop pushed past that. "Okay then….what were you doing at the museum?"

Avitus sighed and rolled his eyes….really, again with this stich? "Look bud, I don't know how I got there."

"How can you not know?" The detective inquired.

"I don't know." The Assassin replied with a smirk, watching as the otter became flustered and a little upset.

The detective gave a disapproving glare and pressed on. "How did you get hurt?"

"I got shot." Avitus deadpanned. "….A lot."

The otter rolled his eyes. "I mean, what caused that to happen."

"You see, there are these things called guns, and they are bad." Avitus sounded like he was lecturing a stubborn child.

Detective Winthrop became incensed at that point, slamming a closed paw onto the table and shaking it. He gave the kid props for that, it might have worked if he wasn't a hardened killer. He had faced old men far more menacing then him. "Stop playing games with me! You aren't doing yourself any favors."

"Yeah well I haven't done anything wrong either!" Avitus suddenly growled back, straining against his bonds and giving the otter a small fright. It wasn't necessarily true; he had killed several people not too long ago. But that wasn't here and they didn't need to know that. "What are you charging me with, surviving an attempted murder?" Avitus grunted sardonically.

"Well, you are looking at some hard time for breaking into a museum." The otter retorted with a smirk.

The Assassin chuckled openly at that. "Breaking into a museum? That's the best you can nail me with?"

Winthrop withered under the mocking laughter. "Yes, and we will be taking your stuff as well. After all, that's all highly illegal." He grinned maliciously at that, watching as the man's face went blank.

Avitus stared at the little otter. He thought that they could just take his stuff? Not only did they not have the right to touch his Assassin's garb, they had no right to keep him from it. "Is that so?" The Assassin asked darkly.

"Damn right, we have your stuff in evidence right now. Soon it will be categorized and filed away, never to see the light of day again." The otter smiled victoriously.

The Assassin nodded his head a few times and shrugged. "This can go two ways." He began; looking to the window he suspected was behind the otter. "Either, we can discuss this like civilized people, and you can give me my stuff back. Or we do not….and I take my stuff."

"I don't think either of those is going to happen." The otter said smugly.

Avitus looked to the otter and gave an almost friendly smile.

The hands that were supposed to be shackled…were not, and he leaned over the table and grabbed the back of the detective's head, smashing his muzzle into the table. As the dazed otter recovered from the sudden disorientation, the assassin vaulted over the table and grabbed him in a choke hold, slamming his body down onto the table. The cup of water flew into the air and the Assassin caught it, chugging the liquid and tossing the glass.

As it shattered against the wall he maneuvered the otter to his front as a shield and ripped the pistol from his holster to aim at his captives head as several officers rushed into the room. As he stared down the barrels of several guns, he smiled. "Now…." He began. "This can go two ways…."

An hour or so later, the Assassin sat on one end of a long board room table. The opposite end had that very pouty badger, Carmelita, a female skunk, and the Winthrop fellow. The otter was clutching his muzzle and giving Avitus a rather mean look. The Assassin grinned; he had warned the poor guy.

Carmelita was giving him an unimpressed look, and he returned it. He had trusted her after all. The skunk that sat beside the vixen was staring at him openly. She looked to be young, probably in her early twenties…but then again, he wasn't exactly a veterinarian expert.

Behind him, three officers stood at what they perceived to be a safe distance. All three were heavy hitters, a bear and two burly wolves. Avitus knew he could take them.

He had just finished giving a truthful explanation for his arrival, how the strange cane he had was responsible for placing him in this odd parallel world. He had also spun a short account of humanity. And as he finished, he realized that it was all sounded somewhere far off in the realm of insanity.

"Let me get this straight." The grumpy badger began. "You are from a world that is almost an exact replica of this one. You were some sort of soldier or police officer, protecting your people from another group. And this stick you found, just _happened_ to send you here, to our world."

Avitus smiled and nodded. "See, you got it!"

"Bah, take him to the loony bin." Chief Inspector grumpy pants muttered, waiving a paw.

Avitus frowned and prepared to fight his way out when Carmelita piped in. "Wait, Chief!"

The officers behind him halted and the Assassin leaned back in his seat. The badger turned to Carmelita and grunted. "What?"

"I think he's telling the truth, sir." She answered quickly.

The caterpillar like bushy eyebrows that covered the chief's eyes rose and he regarded her curiously. "Is that so, Inspector Fox?"

She nodded, a little less confident of her defense. Avitus gave her a thankful look and that bolstered her resolve a small bit. "There are certain facts that support his story sir. No animal species of his has ever been seen."

The badger grunted at that.

"There is also the fact that the museum had no break-in, no entrances were breached and the security system reported no infiltration. Add that to the absence of shell casings and weapons discharge at the scene and he has a pretty solid, if hard to believe, case." The vixen listed off a few things and smirked confidently.

Chief Barkley gave her a long and hard look, switching between her and the man in question.

The Assassin smiled and waved at him.

The badger grunted before sighing heavily, retrieving an uncut cigar from his little pocket protector. "Very well Inspector Fox, until such as a time as I deem, he will be free of charges. But he's your responsibility now, if anything untoward happens, it will hang on your head!" He warned crossly, wagging the cigar at her before placing it in his maw. It was more than likely that he just didn't care all that much about where the human ended up.

Carmelita nodded emphatically. "Of course Chief, I wouldn't expect anything less!"

The old badger gave her and the man one more look before grumbling and leaving the office. The officers around him slowly filed out, Winthrop giving him a very unhappy look. The only people that remained were Carmelita, himself, and that small skunk girl.

Sighing in relief he stood up and walked over to her. "Thanks, I thought I would have to do something drastic."

The vixen flipped to him, grunted and gave him a piercing glare. "I put my neck out for you! If you screw this up, you'll wish that you were locked up in an asylum." She prodded his chest with a claw and he felt it through his thin shirt as she made sure the message got across.

The Assassin nodded seriously. "Sure, I won't be any trouble, I promise." He backed up slightly, wary of the irate woman.

As Carmelita thought about her brash decision and all that it entailed, Avitus looked to the other person in the room, which had been staring at him all this time. "Uh…hello there?" He asked, unsure as how to address the short skunk.

The female skunk was wearing the same attire that all the officers seemed to wear, and her tail was almost as tall as he was. The large white strip that ran down it was thick and he was sure that it ran up her back. The female smiled timidly and waived a black and pink padded paw at him shyly. "Hi, my name is Rosy."

Avitus gave a short bow. "Hello there Rosy, my name is Avitus."

Rosy kept her smile as she nodded in greeting, and did not say anything more. He pegged her as a shy type and so let her be. He had more pressing things to concern himself with at the moment, like what would he do now?

It was all fine and well that he no longer had to worry about police prosecution, but what would he do now? There was no order to link up with, no assassin contracts to accept, targets, nothing that he usually did to occupy and motivate himself. He would just have to worry about that later, for now he should see about getting his stuff back.

"Hey…Carmelita," He said, making her turn to face him. "Can I get my things?"

The vixen gave an apologetic shake of her muzzle. "Sorry, but even though you may not be from here, you have to abide by our rules. And civilians cannot have access to such dangerous equipment. But I can manage to pull some strings and let you keep one of your handguns, if you register for it."

Avitus frowned deeply, but he guessed that what she said made sense that they would be hesitant to hand it over, factoring his strange arrival and story. Besides, he didn't really need his stuff at the moment, and when he did he could see if the staff could in fact take him back. That also brought up a dilemma for the Assassin, Where would he be staying? And how would he function in this world? No staff meant to way back, if it would even let him go back.

Carmelita was thinking along the same lines at that moment. Considering the…unbelievable circumstances of his arrival, he had no place to call home and indeed, no money or even an ID. She decided that first things first, she would have to get that squared away.

Suddenly an idea struck her. She hated all that tedious stuff, registration and the like, but Rosy was always good at that. The skunk had a knack for all the paperwork and forms that the vixen dreaded with a passion.

"Rosy." She said, turning to the skunk.

"Yes, Carmelita?" She asked, looking to her friend.

"Can you help Avitus here get registered? If he is going to be staying here for a while, he needs to have all that stuff set up." The female fox explained as the trio walked out of the board room.

The larger expanse outside of it was an office space where officers who were not on patrol sat in cubicles and handled their paperwork. The collection of individuals was a mix of cats, dogs, a few wolves, the bear from before, and a few other animals. Mostly though, they were predatory species, probably more suited for their job.

The walls of the station were colored dark blue and there were many closed off offices for the more advanced officers. The Assassin took this all in and read a few names of the doors, Inspector Bjorn, Inspector Miles, Inspector Ray, and Inspector Fox.

"Sure thing Carmelita, it should only take an hour or so." The skunk replied to the vixen's earlier asked question.

"Thanks Rosy, I have to file some reports. I am already on the Chief's radar and I want to keep it from getting any worse. Also, I need to get some living arrangements set up for our friend here." The vixen turned to Avitus. "Come see me when she's done and I will hopefully have something for you."

The Assassin nodded thankfully and did a quick bow. "Thank you, I'm sorry that I am such trouble."

The vixen shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You actually helped distract me from a personal problem."

Avitus was curious but he let it be for now. The vixen made a quick goodbye and swiveled to walk over to her office. The man watched her as her long legged gait consumed the distance, eyes fixated on the fox's tail. He was still coming to terms with the oddity of this place he found himself in.

There was a slight pressure on his shoulder and he turned to see Rosy, retracting a claw. "Follow me, and I'll help get you accustomed."

He nodded, motioning for her to lead. The female skunk smiled shyly and the duo headed deeper into the precinct.

It actually took an hour and a half to take care of all the little details that citizens usually dealt with only occasionally. Since he had no records of anything previous to go off, he they had to do a lot of guesswork and some of the questions were not relative to him, concerning about fur and other things he did not have.

They also had to add human as a species to his ID, and had to change it up from standard practices. For example, he had hair and not fur, so that had to be changed. In addition, he didn't have a similar dental structure and so it had to be adapted as well. But it was similar to apes and they used that as a template.

But Rosy was actually pretty good at the little steps needed in the bureaucratic process. If she had not been there to help he was certain that it would have taken far longer. They finished with the ID and gave him a fake background. It didn't take much thought to accept that for now, his real origins should be concealed. So he was a human from a distant country in the far reaches of the globe.

The human walked out of the room he had been stuck in for an hour and a half and looked at the small plastic card that held all of his information. It had a picture of his face, information, and other things. It was pretty standard stuff, like a driver's license.

He turned to the skunk and thanked her for helping him.

The girl looked down timidly and mumbled with frown. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

Avitus thought that it made her rather cute. "Nonetheless, you have my gratitude." He pressed firmly but softly.

She tilted her head up to him and nodded softly with a smile. "Okay."

He smiled warmly at her. "Good, that's better. You are much prettier when you smile." The Assassin inclined his head and turned to walk away, heading to Carmelita's office. Rosy blushed a she watched him leave.

Carmelita sat at the office chair behind her desk as she finished her reports. As usual they had been a chore, but this was the less glamorous side of the job. She shuffled the stack of papers and smacked them against the desk a few times to even them out before placing them in a metal bin.

The vixen clicker her pen and returned it to its brothers and sisters in the mug she used as a container. The female vulpine sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching her sore paws. After shifting around in the chair for a bit, she opened a draw in her desk and pulled out a few papers.

They were off houses and apartments that had been seized by the police in drug busts and raids on local gangs. She perused the documents, looking for a suitable place for the human to live. After several minutes of study, she selected one that was only a few miles from the station; it was a small apartment and would be a good place for him to have.

It used to be a gang hideout, but after a raid it was taken and had sat in disuse for a few months. The condition was good and should be an alright home. Since she had the location selected she picked up her wired phone and dialed another number in the precinct.

It rang a few seconds before a male voice answered. "This is Bruce."

"Hey Bruce," She greeted over the line. "I wanted to get the apartment by 23rd and 5th open for use." She pivoted her chair to look out the window, twirling the black phone cord in her paw.

"Carmelita, what do you need that place for?" The male asked curiously.

She filled him in on why and he paused for a moment. "….I suppose I could have it open back up, just need to take care of some paperwork. You know how it is."

"Thanks Bruce, you would be doing me a big favor." Carmelita said with a sigh.

"Of course no problem, it was just going to rot there anyways." He replied.

They said their goodbyes and she placed the phone back on its plinth. That left everything taken care of…for now. At least until something else happened, as it usually did.

A short while later there was a knock on her door.

"Come in." She called out.

The door opened and Avitus walked in. He looked a little haggard, having finished the meticulous and draining legal process. The man flopped onto the opposite chair and groaned. "I hate paper."

Carmelita held back a giggle, hiding it by clearing her throat. "I think we all hate paper."

He grumbled and sat up in his seat. "Only when it seeks to suck ones soul out, or at least that's what it feels like anyways." Avitus yawned. "But that's not important right now."

"Correct," Carmelita agreed. "I managed to get you somewhere to live, a small apartment a few miles from the station. It is a little small but you don't have to pay rent or anything along those lines. But this is not a free ride. Since it seems like you are stuck here, you will need to be able to support yourself. You will need to find an avenue of employment. But before that you will have to have an account with a bank."

The vixen explained this and the Assassin grunted in annoyance. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck here, and have to do all this petty junk. But a small part of him was interested in the opportunity this represented. He would be able to live a normal life. There was no Templar threat, no need to fight. But then again he was not back in his world, he was here.

Yet the Assassin loved challenged, and this would be a big one.

"Fine, I can do all that crap." Avitus relented. "But I don't have to like it."

Carmelita smiled. "Excellent, you can get started now."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thank you all for the support, it is greatly appreciated. It is a bad habit of mine to forget to put these up here, so forgive me if they are rather inconsistent. I won't take up much of your time, but I wanted to just say thanks.**

**Oh and to ZILLAFAN, I have never considered that for a story. But the idea is interesting. Unfortunately I would not know how to bridge the gap between those worlds and character types. But I will think about it and see if I can dredge up an idea.**

The Creed

Chapter 4: Ordinary

With a grunt, Avitus leveraged open the door to his small flat, holding a large brown paper bag of groceries in both arms. He stepped into the apartment and walked past the tiled entryway into the kitchen. He dropped the bag onto the wooden counter and opened the fridge and cabinets. The man transferred the items in the bag to the opened container, the Assassin humming quietly to himself as he worked.

It had been two weeks since he had been set loose to live in this strange world, and he had been doing his best to live a normal life, in an abnormal world. He found work at a private security firm called _Aegis_, it was relatively easy to get hired with his previous Assassin training, surpassing the physical and mental requirements. He had found a newspaper with the company on the front page and had been quick to inquire about a position. It was the perfect job for him; it allowed him to continue to follow the code of the Assassins, if loosely. And it also kept his desire to safeguard innocents from harm, satiated.

_Aegis_ was a company that provided worldwide protection to those who needed it. He had only been hired recently and was stuck with assignments in Paris, but he knew that soon he would be able to branch out to real crisis zones. Than he could really do what he wanted, so for now his job consisted of private protection of banks, museums, and other domestic places.

The man finished stocking his kitchen for the week and dusted off his hands before grabbing a soda and sandwich from the fridge. He took them into the living room with him.

The main room was a comfortably small carpeted area that only spanned a hundred and fifty square feet. It was more than enough for him. The room was occupied by a coffee table, sofa, television, a tall lamp in the corner, and a window of the Parisian skyline. The walls were painted a dark chocolate brown and the lamp when turned on, gave off a warm yellow light.

Avitus slowly sat down on the brown couch, placed the food and drink down, and grabbed the remote for the TV, which was sitting by a few books on history. He clicked the device, turning the tube on, and put it back on the table.

The man snapped the top of the soda and took a sip, letting the carbonated liquid bubble down his throat. As the TV chattered on about the daily news he reached into his jacket and dropped his handgun onto the rectangular table.

He replaced the drink with the sandwich and picked up one of the books from the table in his other hand. He alternated eating and drinking as he read up on the medieval era of history.

Much of his free time since coming here had been spent on studying the history of this world; he wanted to see what similarities and what differences there were. And yet perhaps most importantly, he was looking for any information that could reveal the existence of the order of Assassins in this world.

He hypothesized that if these worlds were so closely parallel, that there was a very real possibility that they existed here as well. But if they did, that also meant that the Templar were here as well.

Avitus was uncertain whether he should be grateful or distraught that he had not uncovered anything yet.

He spent an hour on the couch reading, log after he finished his meal. But after finding nothing in the book he selected he returned the now finished volume back on the table and stood up, collecting his trash and placing it in the bin in the kitchen.

From there he passed through a short hallway into his bedroom, another small affair with chocolate shaded walls. It had a decently sized bed and an end table with a lamp. He walked over to the table and placed his other handgun on it. After a long winded debate, had managed to convince Carmelita to allow him both, but could not get anything else from his stuff.

Avitus turned his head absently and saw his reflection in the closet's glass panned door.

His lightly tanned visage had a dark brown goatee and his hair was cut short. His blue-green eyes had an almost unnoticeable dark ring under them from many late nights.

Avitus was wearing his black leather jacket, a grey shirt with black trimming, tailored black jeans (so that there was no hole in the back), and he was still wearing his black leather steel-toed boots. Avitus slipped out of the jacket and placed it on the bed. There were two brown leather shoulder holsters where his guns went, a sheath for a long blade at his waist, and the shirt stuck out a small bit. He removed the holsters, sheath, and shirt, placing them with the jacket.

On his chest was a form fitting chest piece made of some type of alloy, it worked much like a Kevlar vest. It stopped bullets, but not nearly as efficiently as his suit. Still, it was way better than not having any protection at all. He unstrapped it and placed it with everything else, leaving him in an athletic black undershirt.

With that done, he went prone and started to do pushups by the side of the bed.

Avitus worked out to keep fit and ready, not wanting to let his skill fade. He didn't have any equipment yet to help him, as money was still tight, but he wanted to get something when he had the chance.

He worked up a good sweat after an hour long workout, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. The shower itself was small, like everything in the apartment, and it was slightly frustrating to have to use it. He stood at around six and a half feet tall and the shower was designed with much shorter people in mind.

But he did manage to get cleaned up and slipped into some blue sweatpants and a clean pair of grey socks. His apartment's air conditioner was terrible at its job, add that to the mid-summer Parisian heat, and he had decided to go shirtless. He walked out of the shower and headed back to the living room, towel draped across his bare shoulders.

The TV was still on and the news team pair, a male weasel and lioness, was talking about a recent string of heists in plaguing the city. He listened to the report as he began to disassemble his handgun for some routine maintenance.

Apparently, the thieves were incredibly talented and no evidence had been discovered yet that could pin them down. But the team did allude to some cooper fellow. From what they were saying, he was a rather infamous thief and was known for heists of this perfection.

The Assassin shrugged, if he happened to try that while he was on the job, he would take the guy and his friends down. Honestly, he was itching for some excitement, so far all he had done was bust some thugs' heads, it was hardly fitting for a master, if somewhat recently retired, Assassin. He just hoped that they would put up a decent challenge.

While he was placing his gun back together, there was a light knock at his door. He finished and left it on the table to answer the door, wiping his hands on a small cloth. He stooped in the threshold and grabbed the knob, pulling the door open with a twist.

As he took in the sight of the person standing there he smiled kindly. "Hello Fiona, what can I do for you on this day?"

Standing on the other side of the entryway was a short orange tabby with dark green eyes. She stood roughly at about 5'5 and was rather plump. She was wearing a purple shirt and blue jeans with a pair of cozy looking flip-flops and a little black purse was slung on one shoulder. The fur that lay exposed was a soft orange color with darker orange stripes that ran in lines across her arms. The feline had a petite and somewhat cute narrow muzzle that had two strips aiming towards her features on her fuzzy cheeks. Long red hair rand down to her waist and her paws had black socks. The girl's plumpness could be attributed to her love of food and books, hardly going out of her small apartment. Yet even as thick as she was, Fiona had a dainty air about her.

He had encountered the feline a few days after he moved into his apartment; she had bumped into him while he was carrying up his usual week's groceries, tearing the bag and sending the contents across the lacquered wooden floor. Fiona had apologized profusely and helped him clean up, carrying some of them inside. From there she had inquired about his oddness and he had spun his generated story.

Yet it also turned out, much to his surprise that she worked as a teller at the bank he had been tasked with watching. Since then, they had formed a somewhat interesting friendship. It always seemed that the poor girl was in some sort of predicament every time he saw her and needed his help.

Absently, the Assassin began to wonder what it was this time.

Fiona had been strangely quite after he opened the door and so he returned his attention to the girl. When he looked down to the feline he noticed that she was staring at his chest and her cheeks were a slightly darker shade of orange. Yet the cat shook her head, flopping her ears rather doggishly, and focused her attention on his face, cheeks darkening. "H-hey Avitus," She squeaked guilty, as if she had been caught stealing, which confused the Assassin to no end.

But he brushed past that, not certain what it was about.

"I'm in a spot of trouble at the moment." She muttered with a small nervous laugh, scratching at her arm with her claws and looking at him embarrassedly. "It seems that I locked myself out of my apartment, and since today is Sunday the locksmith is closed. And since money is tight I don't want to have to check into a hotel, so I was wondering…." She dragged her sandaled paws in little circles on the wooden floor. "….If I-I could stay at your place for the night, b-but just until the locksmith comes by!" She added hastily.

He thought it over, and decided that it would be unchivalrous to not help her. "Of course you can, for be it to leave a friend in need." He moved out of the way of the door and gestured for her to step inside.

"Thanks, and I'm sorry for any inconvenience I am causing you." She said guiltily, stepping into the small hallway.

"Don't concern yourself with that." Avitus replied warmly as he turned to lead her farther into the small home. "I always pride myself on helping those in need; it's a little tenant of mine that I follow." He chuckled wryly. "Please, have a seat." He gestured for her to sit on the couch.

The feline smiled thankfully and sat down, placing her purse on the coffee table. Her eyes widened marginally and her ears flattened as she noticed the firearm sitting there.

Avitus saw that and apologized. "Sorry, I was just fixing it up a little." He picked it up and quickly deposited back in his bedroom with the rest of his gear, stashing it all in the closet, inside the safe in the back behind his clothes.

He came back and sat down in the chair besides the couch. "Now, how did you lock yourself out of your apartment?" He asked interestedly.

Fiona smiled and chuckled weakly, fiddling with her tail as it laid in her lap. "Well, I lost my key and my replacement is actually in the apartment itself, a little blunder on my part."

"That is indeed a terrible string of events, don't worry, you are free to stay until this matter is resolved, you have my word. And I am a man of my word." Avitus swore to her.

She grinned up at him. "Thanks, it's good to know I have a friend to count on." Her tail was steadily pattering in her lap.

With that out of the way they talked about small things, and she inquired about his interest in history after seeing the small pile of books on his table.

"Oh that?" He asked. "That's just a little hobby of mine; you can say I am looking into the past for an answer to my future."

That made her giggle and she waived her paws at him. "Oooh…sounds mysterious."

He chuckled. "Not mysterious, more like historical soul searching."

From there she asked some more questions about him personally and he gave her a somewhat honest rundown. "My parents were a part of a prestigious group and raised me to become a member like they were, but they were in an accident and passed away while I was young, after they died I was taken care of by the group and eventually joined them. But things back home fell apart and I found myself here, since then…I've just been trying to find my way so to speak."

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents." Fiona soothed, leaning close to pat his knee comfortingly.

He nodded softly and changed the subject to a lighter note. He asked about her family and listened as she regaled him with stories. Apparently she was from America and her family moved here when she had been a kitten. Her father worked as an attorney and her mother was an accomplished physician. She had a brother and two sisters, and they were both infuriating and great. The reason she lived in such a small apartment was that she wanted to make it on her own, not taking any help from her family. Fiona moved out of her parent's home as soon as she hit eighteen and has been alone ever since. Now the twenty one year old cat was happy with her accomplishments.

"That's most impressive; most people would not try to earn things for themselves if they didn't have to." He praised her.

She smiled from the acclaim and looked at him shyly. "Yeah, I just wanted everything I have to be earned by myself and no one else."

As he was about to ask her more about her life, he heard a buzzing noise from his bedroom and remembered something. He had to report in to Carmelita at the precinct. He stood up. "If you would excuse me, I have to take care of an important errand. It should only be an hour or so. But you are free to everything in the house while I'm gone. The remote's on the table, there's food in the fridge if you are hungry, and the bathroom is open."

"Oh okay then, I'll wait for you to get back." She replied, sounding a little crestfallen. Fiona had hoped to talk with him for a while more.

He made an apologetic expression and exited to his room, changing into a new set of clothes, this time a red shirt and black jeans. Avitus grabbed one of his pistols and his knife from the safe, and equipped them, hidden under the jacket. After that he slapped on a black cap, laced up his boots, and headed to the door. He saw that Fiona was already comfortably slaying on his couch and reading one of the books he had on the table, the renaissance era. Her paws swayed, hanging the edge of the couch and her tail lazily bobbed off to her left.

He bade her goodbye again and walked out of the apartment, jogging down the stairs and walking towards the sleek black car he took from the police impound. The original owners would not need it ever again and so he had taken it for his own use. He slipped into the automobile and keyed the engine, backing it out of its spot and driving towards the precinct.

The drive took ten minutes, including traffic, and he parked his car at the front and walked inside the building. He passed a few officers and they greeted him cheerfully. Avitus had become somewhat of a recognized figure at the precinct.

He said his hellos and made his way to the front desk. Sitting there, was a small female skunk, typing away determinedly at the computer in front of her with her agile fingers. The glow of the screen reflected off her glossy black fur in the low light, and accentuated her attractive features. Her ears flicked at the sound of his approach and she looked up to him with a welcoming smile. "Hey there Avitus, are you here for your weekly checkup?" She inquired cheerily, always seeming to be upbeat.

Over the course of the time he knew her, Rosy had slowly become more open and less introverted around him. Now she hardly looked away during their conversations and became more animate as she spoke, more at ease with him.

The man nodded and replied in an equally positive demeanor. "Got in one there Rosy, got to be on time. You remember what happened when I was late the first time."

The skunk giggled and nodded back. "Yeah, she was so upset she threw a stapler at ya!"

Avitus smiled back, but rubbed a spot on his head subconsciously. "Yep, she's definitely not one to trifle with. So is the irate ball of fur in her office?"

"Uh huh, been in there all day, and I would caution you, she seems to be a little down today."

"Why's that?" He asked, concerned for her. After all, she was one of the few people he knew in this world."

"It is not right for me to say, perhaps if you ask she will tell you. It's a sore topic though." Rosy explained.

Avitus frowned thoughtfully and excused himself, heading over to the vixen's office. He traversed the large room and stopped at her door. Avitus moved his hand to knock but stopped himself, a little nervous. But he discarded his caution and lightly rapped on the door.

There was a soft "Come in," And he twisted the knob to walk inside.

The Assassin took gave the office a quick up-down. Carmelita was sitting at her desk in her usual garb, slightly slumped. There was a piece of paper on the oaken surface that she prodded absently with a pen. Her muzzle was equipped with a slender frown and he knew her posture very well. He had seen it on many of his fellow Assassins, usually on a day of remembrance of either a loved one or unpleasant memory.

Avitus slowly entered and sat at the opposite chair, waiting patiently. After a few minutes of silence, the vixen placed the pen, almost ritualistically, on the desk's surface and turned to him. Her usually bright amber eyes seemed dimmed and she when she spoke, it was not in the usual fiery way that he had grown accustomed to.

"Avitus, I take it you have been acclimatizing well?" She inquired, getting straight to business. It was most unlike her, from what he had gathered about her personality so far. The last time had come; they had talked agreeably for an hour before getting down to business.

"Indeed, it is a little odd at times, but I am managing." He responded simply, watching her with a concerned frown. He didn't like this change in her. Granted he didn't know her that well, but he was a naturally caring person and hated it when people were in ill straights.

"That's good." Carmelita said, almost disinterestedly as she sighed so quietly he almost did not catch it.

They talked as usual, but she was very introspective throughout and seemed to only be going through the motions. As that continued, his disquiet slowly rose until he felt that he had to say something to address the elephant in the room.

Throwing caution to the wind as his concern outweighed it, he voiced his fear. "Excuse me…" He cut in. "But are you feeling well Carmelita?"

Carmelita twitched, slowly processing what he had said, and focused on him with a most unpleasant grimace. "What does it matter to you?" The vixen growled aggressively, ears splayed back and black lips pulled up into a toothy snarl, flipping into a hostile stance.

The animalistic growl made the hardened Assassin instinctively flinch and lean back in his chair. "Forgive me; I was just concerned for your welfare, as you have done for me. But I am sorry if it was inappropriate of me. I will leave." He apologized and stood up hurriedly from his chair, wary of incurring her wrath further.

As his fingers ghosted across the bronze doorknob, he heard her call out loudly.

"Avitus wait! Please….sit back down." He looked over his shoulder and saw the vixen gesturing for him to sit back down, almost pleading.

After a few moments he nodded and regained his seat, watching her a little warily.

This time, her ears were pulled back in guilt rather than anger and her paws lay on the desk as she fiddled with the things spread across it, fastidiously. "I'm sorry about that." She muttered with a sigh. "I shouldn't take out my repressed anger on you. It's just that lately I have been a little emotionally imbalanced."

Avitus placed a hand on one of her paws and noticed that it was trembling softly. "It is more than alright, I have had a lot of experience with emotional pain." He spoke warmly and with a deep understanding.

She looked up to his sympathetic eyes and smiled feebly. As she felt the bare skin of his hand on her paw, she noticed that the feeling of depression and betrayal that Sly had inflicted her with subside until it had almost vanished. The strange reaction she had made her curious as to why his touch affected her so. But before she could dwell on that he spoke again.

"I can tell you from experience that the pain will always linger. Yet it will lessen as time passes, and soon it will become something that you can live with." He told her this as if he knew exactly what she was troubled by.

"How do you know this?" She asked, mystified.

At that Avitus have a pained smile, more like a wry grimace. "My life is no stranger to heartache. And if you have had as much as I have, and I hope you never will, you begin to develop a sense of it in others."

Moments later, the man reversed completely, chuckling lightly. "But I digress; we are far off topic at the moment. We are here for my review."

Carmelita nodded at that, suddenly consumed by a desire to press him further on his knowledge. But she smelt that same smell he gave off in the underground parking garage, and so let it be for the moment.

Avitus smiled as he began to tell her about his most recent exploits and the job he found for himself. As some points he cracked a joke that even managed to tickle her seemingly deceased funny bone. Yet as the hour dragged on, he slowly winded down, finishing on the note that his job was something he enjoyed.

"It has always been my vested interest to protect those who are in need, and this job allows me to do that. So I guess you can say that integration has been surprisingly pleasant." He finished off with a lopsided grin.

She could not help but return it as she finished up her notes, ready to give it to the Chief. "I am happy to hear that you are doing well." Carmelita added as she finished her last scribble.

"So am I." He said with a chuckle that seemed to liven up the room. The man glanced down at the watch he had slapped on before he left and seemed shocked. "Wow, I have been here longer than I expected." The usually hour long review had stretched into three. "It has been a pleasure but I must be going." He said reluctantly as he stood up from his chair.

Carmelita watched as he readied to leave and began to think. The next time she would see him would be in a week, a week where her depression would slowly manifest itself once more. But whenever he was around it seemed to fade away, as if he passively emitted something that repelled it. Thoughts of a week without that barrier filled her with dread. So as the man reached for the door she called out again, almost in a whimper. "Wait Avitus, I wanted to ask you a question before you leave."

The man turned back with the same smile he always seemed to have. "Of course, what do you need?"

"I was wondering…" she began, suddenly becoming nervous and stuttering for some reason she could not unearth. "I-If you w-would want to get something to eat tomorrow…I'll buy." She added, hoping to sway him.

His smile widened. "Sure, I would like that."

Her tail began to wag happily on the other side of the chair, through the threaded hole. "Great, I'll call you after work and we can set it up then."

"That would be great, but it has to be after seven 'o'clock, as that's when the bank closes."

"Of course, I'll call you around eight."

"Good, it's a date…" The man said with a teasing chuckle as he left the room leaving her with blush and a lite feathery feeling in her stomach.

The door to her office closed and she could hear his footsteps recede. The vixen sighed and leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, trying to puzzle out what all this was, and where it was leading.

Avitus opened the door to his apartment and shuffled inside. The day had faded until the sun hid behind the forest of buildings. It was around late evening and he was tired from the long day. He walked deeper into his home and turned to the left. What he saw made him smile, as it was rather adorable.

Fiona had fallen asleep on the couch, book opened on top of her muzzle, draping across her fuzzy cheeks. It seemed that she had gotten halfway through the renaissance volume before succumbing to slumber. A slight purr emitted from within her plump chest and her tail flicked back and forth lazily. One paw hung off the side, almost to the floor, and the other sat on her stomach.

He laughed softly as he walked over, taking the book off her face and putting it back on the table. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carrying her to his bedroom. As he was walking towards the room she wrapped her soft furred ginger arms around his shoulders and snuggled into his chest, her purr intensified and she mumbled incoherently, burrowing her muzzle under his armpit. It reminded him almost of a feral cat.

Avitus entered the bedchamber and used his free hand to lift the covers, sliding her inside. It took a little doing but he managed to get her clutches off him without waking her up. He made sure she was comfortable and drew the covers over her body. As he looked at her he could not help but plant a small kiss on her furred forehead, she was just too cute not too. "_Bene dormite parum angelus_…." He whispered and turned to leave.

He had no idea that his exit had been watched by a pair of dark green eyes, above a smiling muzzle.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello readers, I'm doing a mass update for a large portion of my stories. I've had some of these in reserve and forgot, my sincerest apologies!**

The Creed

Chapter 5: Workaholic

Avitus rose from his couch, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The small alarm he placed beside his head on the table was buzzing annoyingly. He slammed a hand down on it, silencing the infernal machine. Once more he had stayed up late, reading up on history, and still he had not found any hint of the possible existence of either the Assassins or the Templar. He was close to giving up hope. History was so dense that he would most likely spend his entire life looking. Perhaps he should just resign himself to the most likely truth that there was nothing to find.

Muttering tiredly, he sat up straight on the couch, eyeing the clock.

**6:30**

In an hour and a half he would have to leave the apartment and head to work. His stomach grumbled loudly and he was reminded that he had not eaten since that sandwich the day before. Standing up from the sofa, he cracked his spine and groggily made way his bedroom. He entered the chamber and saw a lump curled up under the sheets. He smiled as he remembered who was there.

The man stepped over to the bulge and rocked it, eliciting a groan from the bed. "Five more minutes." A tired voice demanded and the sheets ruffled.

"Afraid not," Avitus refuted with an amused chuckle. "We both have to work today, and I know how long it takes for you girls to freshen up."

A paw flashed out of the covers and bopped his face softly.

"No."

"Very well, you have made you choice." He said gravely, placing his hands on the bed and lifting the mattress.

The feline yowled in consternation and flopped to the carpeted ground in a tangle of limbs and fur. He chortled at her expense and watched as she disentangled herself. She sat on the floor and looked up to him with a dissatisfied gleam in her dark green eyes. "Nice sense of hospitality." She muttered sardonically. His laughter only increased and she suddenly curled up before pouncing at him like an uncoiled spring.

Fiona collided with his muscled chest and managed to knock him to the ground. After that she tried to wrestle with him playfully, and she emerged victorious. Avitus decided to let her win, as compensation for his rude awakening.

She sat atop his stomach, grinning triumphantly at her overpowered prey, exposing a gleaming rack of needle-like teeth. "Looks like you need more training mister security man." The feline boasted playfully.

"Sure." He rolled his eyes looking unamused. But the truth was that he rather enjoyed the little fight. It was not often he got to goof off. Back in his previous world, he was far too busy fighting to allow time for fun. So he decided to milk what he could out of this moment, there was no telling when he would get another chance.

"And you need to lay off the éclairs." He retorted jokingly, poking her pleasantly soft plushy belly.

"And lose my advantageous weight? Not a chance!" She declared feistily, poking his hard muscles in return, with her paw. "Perhaps you need to eat more!"

"Alas…." He sighed dramatically. "I must stay fit otherwise I would be out of a job. Maybe after I retire, I will stuff my face every day!" He rolled her off and stood up, helping her to her padded feet. "But until that time comes, I will have to be satisfied with this." He patted his flat abs, mock forlornly.

She giggled at that and they both walked out of the bedroom. Fiona got the first shower and he the second. Afterwards the man changed clothes, prepared breakfast for them both, and got ready for work. Since her place was still locked, she had to wait until after work to get new clothes from her apartment. Until then she would have to make do with her day's previous clothing.

After breakfast, he offered to give her a ride to work and they both arrived in time as the doors were just opening. Fiona gave one last smile and wave before heading to her place and getting set up. The Assassin on the other hand, picked a corner and sat down on a chair, reading a newspaper he found in the bank. This was his second week working at this particular bank, and because of Fiona, it was not as much as a drag as he thought it would have been.

Soon, the hours began to drag by, not much exciting went on in a bank. Most of the day it was deathly silent and smelt of paper and ink. Around noon he got up from his chair and stretched, heading to the room in the back. He stepped inside the little employee room. It had a microwave, small fridge, table, and chairs. Avitus opened the fridge and removed a frozen meal, placing it in the microwave and inputting the time. While he waited for the meal to reheat he sat on one of the chairs and began to think.

Life had becomes so….mundane. It was hard to switch from being an Assassin, always on the run, hiding under countless fake names and stories, to living a life without the fear of being uncovered and hunted like some sort of rabid animal. This was the first time he had been able to live in one place for more than four days. Back then he was continuously moving around towns, states, and even countries, wherever it was that the order needed him. Not to mention he could actually socialize with people, something he had been deprived of for many years. It was hard to make friends when one never lingered in one place, that wasn't even factoring the fact that any friends would soon become targets.

The microwave beeped, jarring him out of his thoughts and sending him to his feet. He walked over to the machine and opened in, taking out the reheated pizza. He brought it back to the table and sat down, beginning to eat.

Shortly thereafter, the door to the room opened again and three people entered. One was Fiona, and the other two was a weasel and mouse. He knew little more than their names and talked only a handful of times, Michael and Hillary.

Both of them were also tellers for the bank and seemed to be close friends of Fiona. He watched as they entered the room, chatting about whatever it was that occupied their attention. The three started to make their own food, oblivious to the silent man eating at the table. Eventually, Michael, the weasel, turned from the fridge and was the first to spot him. He flinched slightly in surprise and quickly smiled and gave a small wave. "Hi there Avitus, I didn't see you there."

He simply waived back in greeting, taking another bite of his meal. Fiona heard his name and flipped around with a broad and happy grin. She always seemed so happy to see him. "Hello Fiona, how was your day so far?"

"Good, a little drearier than usual, but then again that's life." She shrugged and grabbed the bag of food she had and brought it to the table with the others.

He nodded in agreement and resumed his ponderous devouring of the poor pizza in his grasp. He sat at the table as the three friends talked, only keeping a token presence in their conversation. Avitus was not always a talker. Sometimes he preferred to remain silent and let others have their fun.

Soon though, the lunch hour ended and they all had to go back to their respective tasks. But as they all left, Avitus froze in surprise as Fiona gave him a quick and unexpected hug, saying goodbye and walking out of the door a little later.

After collecting himself he attributed it to their close friendship and dismissed it as a normal gesture. Outside the break room, he saw that there was a small influx of customers, a little more than usual for a Monday. Yet the tellers seemed to have everything in order and so he journeyed back to his chair far from the main floor and resumed his glorious task of sitting.

He picked up the newspaper once more and began to shuffle through it. It would seem that crime had raised to an all-time high as of late, rashes of theft, murder, kidnapping, extortion, drugs, and illegal weapons flooded the city. The local police and Interpol seem to be unable to keep up with the overflow of criminal activity. It is uncertain as to whether army units would soon be mobilized and martial law declared. All anyone knew for certain was that a single gang was responsible for this, they were called _The Anarchists_, and people feared that they were a reiteration of the dreaded klaww gang, once thought to have been ousted by efforts of Interpol, or more specifically, Inspector Fox.

Avitus frowned as he read the paper.

He had dealt with many crime syndicates in his time, and never had he encountered one so vile. They seemed to have a hand in every type of criminal enterprise. In fact, they were more along the lines of a militant force than a gang. They were responsible for much of the evil that went unopposed in this city and Interpol seemed to be ill equipped for stopping them.

As he was reading the paper, he heard a disruptive commotion in the foyer of the bank and lowered the paper. What he saw made him frown in consternation, it would seem that five individuals were trying to perform a bank heist, and that just would not do.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" The lead antagonist bellowed, firing a burst of gunfire into the ceiling. All five of them were dressed in what he could only assume to be heavy armor of some sort, and they had a variety of automatic weapons. Their features were hidden by their masks and their voices were distorted by some sort of modulator.

Many of the civilians screamed in fear and complied, lying on the floor and whispering to each other. The five bank robbers spread out, three heading to the teller booths and two staying with the hostages. So far they had noticed the man sitting at a chair in the back. Avitus would have dispatched them, post-haste, but he had to be careful of civilian casualties.

"Just stay down and no one gets hurt, don't try to be a hero, we tend to kill those." One of the robbers spoke as he walked among the terrified people, watching them like a hawk. The Assassin noticed that his companion was exuding reluctance, and holding his rifle improperly, probably a new recruit, and young.

Avitus sat in his chair and watched as the three other criminals began to harass the tellers. He saw Fiona, terrified, as the three began to order her and her friends around. The Assassin scowled and stood up from his chair, walking towards the two near the door.

The more experienced criminal spotted him and whipped his weapon in his direction. "What are you doing, I said stay down!"

The Assassin nodded and slowed to a stop in front of him. "Yeah, you also said no one be a hero. So I wanted to give you these, to show you that I don't want any trouble." The Assassin slowly opened his jacket and revealed his two handguns, keeping his blade hidden. The two bank robbers watched, dumbfounded, as he handed over his two weapons.

"You stupid or something?" The robber demanded as he hastily snatched the weapons from the Assassin's hands.

"No." Avitus replied. "I just don't need them."

'Whatever freak, just get down!"

Avitus complied and went to sit on the floor, running a plan through his head. Now the targets believed he was no longer a threat, and he could enact his plan. First step would be to divide them.

"What are you doing here kid?" He asked the obviously young and inexperienced fellow.

"W-what are you talking about?" The kid stuttered. From the sound of his voice, he could be no older than seventeen, maybe even fifteen, a new hire and most likely fodder. They had probably seduced him with promises of easy cash and luxury.

"A kid like you shouldn't be here. You got family?"

The masked kid shook his head uncertainly.

"Shut up! No talking!" The other thug growled threateningly.

Avitus ignored him and continued, watching as the other three began to tack the money from the teller booths. "So you got no one to take care of you? On your own huh, and with this crowd no less?"

"I said no talking!" The other robber smashed the butt of his rifle into the Assassin's face, knocking him to the floor.

Avitus went quiet, but he could see the conflict in the kid's posture, his body kept shifting and he held his weapon loosely. The Assassin switched his focus to the other guy, watching him carefully as the sound of police sirens began to echo within the building. This one had to be taken out swiftly. His stance became erratic as the sirens picked up and he shifted, not with uncertain, but with imminent violence. He would soon do something drastic, and death could be the only result.

As the other three began to pick up their loot, one of them separated and went to the vault and began to lay squares of explosives on the massive steel door in the back. It looked like these guys were in it for the long haul.

All in all, there were five targets, one of them malleable. He could probably convince the kid to give up peacefully, leaving just the four more die-hard heavies. The red and blue flashes of the police lights began to strobe in through the panned windows and they could hear he chatter of radios.

"Shit, what do we do man?" One of the guys cursed, shaking his rifle.

"Stick with the plan, we can do this!" The armed man with the bags of money retorted angrily. 'Keep it together!"

Seconds later the bank shuddered as the explosives blew the vault doors open and two of the guys went inside, even as the smoke began to clear. Avitus could hear clattering as they rifled through the contents of the massive safe.

The Assassin sat back up and looked for Fiona, spotting the cat in a corner where she had been dragged. She turned to him with a fearful glance and he returned it with a confident smile and a wave. "W-what are you doing?" The kid standing next to him whispered with pseudo authority, trying to sound tough.

Avitus turned to him, still smiling. "Just trying to cheer my friend up, you guys are quite the fearsome sight. You plan on killing anyone?"

The kid sounded mortified. 'N-no way man! They told me we were just going to be in and out, no death, just taking money that's all!"

"And when they want to start killing hostages?"

"That's not going to happen!" The kid vehemently denied, although his voice waivered uncertainly. "I'm sure it won't…."

"**This is Inspector Fox, from Interpol! We demand that you release the hostages!" **A very familiar voice called over a loud speaker.

At the sound of the female vixen, the bank robbers became visibly agitated. "Fuck, not that bitch!" One of them moaned.

The leader spoke up grimly. "We need to take a stand, grab one of the hostages, we kill one of them, and then they'll know we're serious."

"B-but boss!" The kid stuttered. "You said no one would get hurt!"

"Shut it newbie! Your job is to stay on the hostages and keep them quiet, you fail in that and we'll kill you instead!" The older male growled, making the kid quiver and nod frightfully.

The guy standing beside the kid looked around and started to head over to Fiona. As she saw him heading over, she mewled.

"If I may, can I make a suggestion?!" Avitus called out suddenly, standing up. "How about you all put your guns down and give your selves up before someone gets hurt."

The leader chuckled darkly and turned to face him. "And why is that, freak?"

"Well, I would hate to have to kill all of you. It would be rather annoying to get blood on my clothes, I just bought them and they were quite expensive, custom made if you must know." Avitus replied as he stood there with a jovial smile adorning his face, picking at is clothes.

The leader scoffed and looked to his cohorts. "Is this guy for real?"

"Yeah boss, he was mouthing off earlier." The guy standing beside Fiona declared.

"Huh, bring him to the front and kill him instead. Let's see if he's still laughing then." The boss muttered, gesturing for two of his guys to grab him.

They grabbed him by each arm and began to force him to the front of the building, the Assassin still smiling. They dragged him to the front of the building and opened the doors, standing him in front, using the man as a shield.

Avitus took in the sight of several police cars, and a line of officers. He spied out Carmelita in the front with a bull horn; she flinched somewhat at seeing him but recovered swiftly.

"**Let the hostages go, and we will be lenient on you!" **shouted at the two thugs behind him.

"Not a chance bitch!" One of them retorted with a chuckle.

"We are going to make an example of this joker here. All the other hostages will end up like him if you try anything funny!" The other stated seriously.

He pressed the muzzle of a pistol to the back of the Assassin's head and pulled the trigger as the vixen shouted for them to stop.

Yet instead of carving through skin, flesh, and bone, it sliced through open air. For the Assassin was no longer standing there. A _snap_ of bone was heard after the gunshot as the first assailant fell, head twisted at an odd angle.

Avitus flowed around the other thug even as he looked to his friend in shock, and grabbed the arm holding the pistol, punching the elbow. A crack and the gun fell from limp fingers as he cried out in shock and pain. But he was quickly silenced as the Assassin snatched the handgun out of the air and rammed it under the man's chin, pulling the trigger, splattering blood all over him and the ground. The body slumped to the floor beside his cohort and the Assassin dropped the gun disdainfully, trying to brush the blood off his clothes, to little effect.

He looked to the police line and Carmelita, and preformed a little bow. Then, unceremoniously, he swiveled around and walked back into the bank.

"Did you blast that mother fu...?" The guy standing near the door turned and trailed off as he saw the blood covered man walk inside.

"They ran into some unexpected difficulties." The Assassin replied smoothly.

The thug stumbled backwards and reached for his rifle, but before he could do anything there was a flash of movement and a thirteen inch blade hilted itself in his throat. The robber gurgled and clutched at his neck as it spewed crimson blood.

Avitus casually strolled past him and plucked the blade from the falling body, flicking it and dispersing the blood in an arc on the white marbled flooring. That just left the big boss and the kid.

The Assassin entered the main foyer and turned to see the kid and the boss, both aiming their weapons at him, but one of them waivered.

"What the fuck are you?!" The leader demanded heatedly.

"I'm just guy in the wrong world, at the right time." Avitus answered simply.

"Screw it, let's waste this guy!" The masked male growled, but at that his comrade backed up. He turned to him in anger and bewilderment. "You gonna back out now?"

"I can't do this, it's not right." The kid muttered, letting his gun fall to the floor.

"I'll just kill both of you then!" The guy growled, turning his weapon on the kid. But before he could pull the trigger a blade slammed into the center of the gun and rendered it useless.

The robber growled and tossed the gun to the floor, looking to the Assassin. "Your dead mother fucker!"

Avitus walked over to the thug, still smiling, as the enemy charged forwards, aiming a fist at the man's face with all of his might. The Assassin caught the closed fist and placed it high in the air, ramming his own into the target's armpit.

The thug grunted and moved to hit him with his other limb and the Assassin weaved under it, delivering a kick to his knee and shattering it. The criminal howled in pain and fell to the ground. But the Assassin caught his descent, wrapping his arms around his prey's neck and following him down.

He was no longer smiling.

"_Somnus in morte._" Avitus whispered and twisted his arms violently. There was a spine crawling series of _cracks_, and he released the body, letting it drop to the floor. The Assassin stood up from the body and turned to the kid, who was looking at him in blatant fear.

"You should find a better means of employment." Avitus suggested, walking over to one of the bodies and retrieving his handguns, which he had not needed.

The kid bobbed his head rapidly and quickly dropped to the ground, placing his hands behind his head and thanking god that he still lived.

Avitus holstered his guns and walked over to Fiona, helping her up to her feet. "I trust you are unharmed?" He inquired.

The feline nodded numbly and looked to him in awe. "That was amazing!" She squeaked.

"That is why they pay me." Avitus replied as he grabbed a few random papers from the lobby table and began to pat down his clothes. As the people began to stand up a force of heavily armed officers rushed inside. They were accompanied by none other than Carmelita Fox and detective Winthrop.

The Assassins smiled cheerfully and walked over to them, tossing the blood stained papers on the floor. "Hey there Carmelita, looks like everything worked out eh?"

She stopped a few feet from him, watching him with an odd look on her muzzle. "I have a feeling that there is a lot of your past that you left out."

"Everyone's entitled to their secrets." Avitus responded with a pleasant grin, but the warning was still there. Somethings were better left uncovered. "Perhaps I'll tell you some of them one day."

The vixen's ears twitched in agitation, but she let it drop….for now. "Alright then Avitus, have it your way. But you will tell me someday."

"Maybe, perhaps even over lunch today." He looked to the bank as officers carried out the bodies and took the kid into custody. 'After all, it looks like I'm off for the rest of the day."


End file.
